


something about stalagmites

by jilliancares



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone Is Alive, Getting Together, Langst, M/M, Near Death Experiences, dw i don't kill anyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jilliancares/pseuds/jilliancares
Summary: An angsty (with a happy ending) fic about Lance being on death's doorstep while the team tries to save him.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 90
Kudos: 861
Collections: Tallnblonde Medium oneshots





	something about stalagmites

**Author's Note:**

> don't @ me i just like it when my favs suffer 😌✨

“Arguably, this isn’t the worst situation we’ve ever been in,” Lance rasps, grinning weakly. No one smiles back, or even laughs, which generally isn’t the response Lance gets to his jokes. He’d be hurt, honestly, if his entire body wasn’t already overwhelmed with a hurt of a different kind.

“Now isn’t the time for jokes, Lance,” Keith says, looking grim and serious and desperate.

“Now is _always_ the time for jokes,” Lance argues. “Besides, wouldn’t you rather remember me like this? I want history books to say that not only was I charming and handsome and incredibly brave, but that I never stopped cracking jokes. Not even on my deathbed.”

Keith pales considerably. Pidge starts typing away even faster on her datapad and Hunk drops right into a squat, working diligently to bite away the rest of his remaining fingernails. Shiro sucks in a breath but it’s Allura who barks, “Lance!” in that tone of voice that always means, _not the time, Lance, that is incredibly inappropriate._

But, considering the fact that Lance really, honestly might die this time, he doesn’t feel too bad about being reprimanded. He’s not even entirely willing to change his behavior, because he doesn’t want to spend his last moments sitting in an anxious silence along with everyone else as they desperately try to devise a plan to save him.

Right. He should probably mention how he got into this situation, shouldn’t he?

It was typical Voltron business, in the way that all business is typical Voltron business. Nothing’s really allowed to be unexpected because _everything_ is unexpected. Being a soldier in an intergalactic war means you learn to roll with the punches, whether that’s accepting the fact that there’s latrine duty even on a high-tech castle-ship or suiting up to go fight a giant worm that shoots lasers out of its mouth.

Not that today was a day where they fought a weblum. They’re endangered creatures that create an important resource for the castle-ship — they’d never fight a weblum.

They _did_ fight a talking monster in a cave, though. A distress call went out and they answered it. They arrived on this planet to hundreds of aliens vying for their help. Shiro and Allura handled the talking, and less than an hour later, they were hiking through the depths of a cave toward the lair of the monster that lived there, creeping past the bones of the children it’d lured into its home for various meals throughout its lifetime.

The monster’s dead, now, because they’re the Paladins of Voltron and they’re typically pretty good at this stuff. That’s not to say that they don’t have off days, of course. Like when Pidge forgets her hacking materials on a mission that revolves almost solely around hacking, or when Keith, in some way almost unimaginable, manages to forget his bayard.

Today didn’t seem like an off day in any regard, though. Not until the end, anyway, when Lance was backhanded across the entire cave — an impressive and unfortunate feat of strength — and thus impaled on something that’s neither a stalagmite nor a stalactite. He’s not entire sure if it has a name, but it looks just like those. Instead of coming from the ceiling and floor, however, this one protruded directly from the wall. It still does, in fact, and through Lance’s stomach, too.

Yeah, he honestly has no idea how he’s still alive right now. By Pidge’s estimates, it managed to miss all the things inside him that are essential for survival, but the second they pull him off this thing, he’s going to bleed out everywhere, dropping organs and intestines and shit as he does.

Lance has come to accept this in the minutes since he woke up, having passed out from the sheer pain of being impaled by a not-stalactite. The fighting caused a lot of damage to the integrity of the cave, meaning that — yes — the entrance most definitely caved in. It’ll take some time to figure out how to get out of this shithole, meanwhile Lance is clinging to the strings of life through sheer adrenaline and misplaced not-stalagmites alone.

Considering all of this, Lance is absolutely, 100% going to keep at it with his ill-timed and horribly dark humor, because otherwise he might just go insane as the creeping footsteps of Death himself approach him. And honestly, no one wants to see their friend go insane in their last moments, right?

“We can figure this out,” Shiro says ostensibly, pacing now. He isn’t looking at Lance, but the avalanche of rocks that cover the one and only entrance to the cave. He’s still thinking of being able to get Lance out of this alive, then. His friends have this horrible idea in mind that, if they can manage to clear a path to the outside world, they’ll be able to pull Lance’s body off of the whatever-the-fuck its impaled on and rush him back to the castle-ship in time to shove him into a pod, where he’ll hopefully be fixed to an extent that none of them have ever needed to be fixed before.

Pidge projects a hologram with her datapad, because space-wifi is insane or possibly because that thing doesn’t actually run on wifi — Lance can never remember. Apparently, she’s scanned the rocks and the weak and strong points of the cave, and she materializes next to Shiro’s elbow in order to engage in a serious conversation with him. They’re talking about moving the rocks, and maybe having a stretcher sent down here before they try to transport Lance, and while they’re at it, maybe they should just bring some bandages to stuff inside the gaping hole that will be revealed when they finally un-impale him.

They don’t actually say that last part, but Lance thinks it.

He should absolutely, definitely be in excruciating pain right now. He figures the only reason he isn’t is because he either: A) is so hopped up on adrenaline and shock that his brain has actively forgotten how to inform his body that it’s in agony, or — more likely — B) the sta-wall-tite shredded his spine and nervous system and whatever the fuck and he’s, in fact, paralyzed. His brain _unable_ to communicate the pain the rest of his body is in.

He figures it doesn’t really matter, since he’s practically already dead anyway.

(But he’s not thinking about that, not really. He’s not thinking about the family he’ll never see again or the people he won’t be able to help save. Not thinking about Voltron or the universe or fuck, God dammit, his friends — family, now, honestly, after how long it’s been, and—)

“Lance,” Keith says harshly, and the sound of his snapping fingers echoes so sharply around the cave that Lance’s head jerks up, his eyes flying open. “Don’t close your eyes.”

“I won’t go into the light, either,” Lance jokes. “In fact, if I see a light, I’ll close my eyes just to avoid looking at it.”

Keith just stares at him, so overcome with worry that he looks furious. Maybe he _is_ furious. Either at Lance for still having the gall to joke about this situation, or with Lance himself for even being on his deathbed.

That latter option actually makes something within Lance pang. A hint of pain, located somewhere in the vicinity of his heart — something which (very luckily, lest he forget) _wasn’t_ impaled.

But Keith can’t actually be mad about him for being in this situation, can he?

Lance makes the herculean effort of lifting his head, remembering again that he should be keeping his eyes open, and looks at Keith. He’s still glaring, chewing on the inside of his cheek, his hands balled into fists by his sides.

Right. On second thought, he’s most _definitely_ pissed at Lance. After all, it should be him on this wall spike.

They’d all been merrily fighting the cave monster, Lance and Hunk shooting it with their guns and the rest of them fighting it hand-to-hand, when he’d seen its eyes zero in on Keith, someone who’d been stabbing at its ankles and shins a bit too much for its liking.

And, as Lance has discovered, there’s something very odd about being in love with someone: your brain decides that it doesn’t need to operate anymore.

Lance knows this because he’s experienced it several times, and only around Keith. Like when he stares at him for minutes straight, not thinking a single thing but just… taking him in. Or how he fights more recklessly when Keith’s in danger, diving headfirst into lasers or crashing into Galra cruisers in order to keep Keith out of the line of fire. Or how mere weeks ago, Lance got incredibly drunk and very impressively learned how to turn his brain even more offline in the presence of Keith, which resulted in him kissing Keith on the mouth with zero prompting and then running away in a drunken stupor after realizing what he’d done.

Yeah. They didn’t talk about that, though mainly because Lance has been avoiding Keith like his life depends on it.

Anyway, the monster raised its scarily huge hand and Lance momentarily forgot that there’s a reason he always fights from a distance. He sprinted across the room and shoved Keith out of harm’s way, and then he woke up with a good foot of solid stone sticking out of his stomach.

“Allura,” Lance says, and Allura’s attention jerks away from Shiro and Pidge to instead concentrate on him, her eyes wide.

“Lance?” she says quickly. “Are you all right? Do you need anything?”

“Oh, just dandy,” Lance says. “I only wanted to inform you that I’m leaving all of my belongings to your mice. Partially because I think everyone kind of forgets they exist, and partially because I think that’s hilarious.”

“Not funny,” she growls.

“Wow, rude,” Lance says. “I’m going to hold this grudge for the rest of my life.”

Allura pales in much the same way Keith did earlier. Keith, meanwhile, looks on the verge of kicking Lance. Thankfully, he tends to be the kind of person who doesn’t kick others while they’re down.

“We’re going to get you out of this,” she promises. “So please just… don’t lose hope,” she says softly, and Lance manages a smile for her. Clearly, his jokes aren’t helping to lighten the mood for anyone other than him. He sighs, feeling tired and just… so _done_. And then he realizes that it takes significantly more effort than before to remember to breathe in again, but he does it anyway, if only so that he doesn’t die immediately after Allura told him not to lose hope. That just seems kind of like an asshole move.

Keith sinks down next to Lance, apparently having gotten over the urge to kick him, and Lance almost thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven already when Keith reaches out and intertwines their fingers.

It feels like lifting an entire barbell with his face alone, but Lance maneuvers his head in order to look down at their hands, just to assure himself of the fact that he’s not hallucinating.

“You’re holding my hand,” Lance points out. He thinks it might’ve been a while since that happened. Things are starting to get kind of foggy and weirdly distant, and if the way Keith squeezes his fingers in what seems like surprise is any indication, Lance would guess that it’s been at least a few minutes since this event occurred.

“I hear people do that, sometimes,” Keith says anyway, humoring him.

Lance huffs a breath, and it’s _definitely_ harder now. He’s never had to think so hard just to accomplish a normal function of living, but then again, he’s rarely been so keenly aware of his rapidly approaching death. He used to wonder how people in hospitals knew that they were dying, having heard stories of old and sickly grandparents telling their loved ones bullshit like “I’m leaving now,” or “the angels are calling me.”

Except, in just a few more minutes, Lance feels confident that he could make the same proclamation. Could tell his friends that he loves them and has to go now just in time to die before being forced to watch their tearful reactions.

“I’m sorry for kissing you,” Lance whispers. Half because talking is growing more difficult and half because only the two of them actually know about that little event, and Lance has yet to have the courage to broach the subject.

“Don’t be,” Keith says.

Lance chuckles, and the force of his laughter sends blood flying from his lips. He sees it land on the stone sticking out of him, and he ignores the way Keith stiffens beside him.

“You’re just saying that,” Lance says. “You want me to die happy.”

“You’re not going to die,” Keith says, fierce. “And unfortunately, I’m enough of an asshole that I would tell you my true feelings on your deathbed, even if they were mean.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Lance registers the meaning of that. The fact that Keith is admitting that his true feelings _aren’t_ something that would make him an asshole, in this case. Which means that he does, in fact, like Lance back.

But instead of acknowledging any of that, Lance snorts and says, “So you admit it’s a deathbed, then?”

Keith actually growls, but Lance is amused enough that he manages to keep his eyes open even when his brain starts begging for them to close, because he just needs some rest, that’s all. He’s just tired, and tiredness calls for sleep. But this conversation is too entertaining to sleep through.

“So you don’t mind that I kissed you?” Lance confirms. God, he’s been staring at their hands for so long, but he really wants to see Keith’s face. And, through some kind of miracle, he makes that happen. Manages to let the weight of his head fall back, until his head’s almost hanging backward between his shoulders and he’s looking down at Keith along the length of his nose.

“No,” Keith says. “And you would’ve known that had you not run away the second we were ever alone together.”

“Sorry,” Lance whispers, letting his eyes fall shut. “I did track one semester in middle school, you know. Instincts.”

Keith laughs, the sound soft. Or maybe distant.

“You should kiss me again,” Lance huffs. He thinks he can _feel_ his heart beating in his chest, sluggish and slow.

“Of course,” Keith says. “Right after you get out of the pod.”

Lance groans, no longer having the energy to open his eyes. “Asshole,” he whispers.

“Maybe,” Keith says. “Just stay with us as we pull you off this thing, okay?”

“Huh?” Lance manages, and through his eyelashes, he sees an opening in the cave that wasn’t there before. Realizes that somehow, someway, his friends cleared the debris.

And then there are hands on his shoulders, his legs, his waist, and Lance feels the most excruciating pain for about two seconds before he blacks out despite Keith’s request.

He isn’t aware as he’s loaded onto the stretcher, his friends shouting and doing their best to stop the bleeding. He’s out cold as he’s rushed through the caves, past the celebrating and then alarmed crowd, onto the castle-ship. He doesn’t wake up as Coran frets over him and then immediately calms, prepping him as he’s prepped all of them, at one time or another, for the pod.

He’s not awake for any of it, but he’s not dead, either. He’s stuffed into the pod and everything looks dicey for the next few hours. Lights flash and alarms blare as his body is put through the wringer, trying its best to heal the damage with the help of alien tech. Later, Coran will admit that the chance of Lance surviving had been less than 5%, and that he hadn’t wanted to tell any of them for fear of crushing their hope. He’ll talk about how each time Lance’s heart began to fail, he thought it’d be the last time. That miraculously, Lance pulled through again and again, until he finally stabilized, able to spend the next two days healing steadily in the safety of the pod. That Lance must’ve really wanted to live, seeing how he fought so hard to survive.

None of them know that when Lance finally does step out of the pod, however. They’re just happy and thankful, glad that they managed to get Lance back to the ship in time and glad that Lance didn’t give up in that cave, that he stayed awake and joked and talked while they figured out how to even get them out of there.

“So you _did_ like my jokes?” Lance challenges them almost immediately, and Allura groans and Hunk glares and Pidge admits, after bravely speaking up, that they were funny in hindsight. Lance presses her further, saying that even if he’d died, she later would’ve learned to appreciate his jokes for what they were, and she just rolls her eyes.

Everyone thinks that that’s the end of it all, the end of the big twist from their most recent mission. That everyone — despite not saying it aloud — had thought somewhere in the recesses of their mind that Lance really wasn’t going to make it, that they would actually lose one of their friends, this time. That Lance’s miraculous survival is the big finale to this story in particular.

Instead, the story they’ll later tell at dinner parties and to foreign dignitaries when they see Keith leaning against Lance, the two of them murmuring to each other in their own little world, is how they first got together: how Lance stepped out of the pod and Keith forced himself to wait through the hugs and the chit-chat until he physically couldn’t anymore.

Until he finally fulfilled his promise and rushed forward, grabbing Lance and pulling him close and kissing him square on the mouth without either of them running away this time.

They won’t talk about how everyone collectively lost their shit, however. The absolute eruption of excited screams, the way just Allura started jumping in place or how Shiro’s mouth dropped open or how Pidge literally collapsed to the ground in order to bang her fists on the floor in excitement. They’ll probably leave out the part about how Hunk rushed forward, enveloping the two of them in a hug and spinning them around, and how Coran asked at least seven times if this meant that they were married, because on Altea, this would’ve meant that they were married.

But still, even without all the particulars, it’s a good story nonetheless.


End file.
